This year’s StoryMoja Hay Festival featured dozens of local and international writers of repute. Among them was author and journalist Precious Williams. Born to a Nigerian princess, her memoir, “Precious”, tells the compelling story of her life as the adopted daughter of a white family living in West Sussex, England.

It all begins with an advertisement. Nursery World, 1971: “Private foster parents required for a three-month-old baby.” Precious then delves into a narrative that twists and turns like a salsa dancer caught in the moment. She shares how she grew up under the care of a nanny, but spent a large chunk of her time trying to fight her way into the heart of her biological mother. All through the book, the reader is magically taken through the tale of this inquisitive girl who just wanted to know why her mother gave her away.

Precious confesses to ignoring the love she had at home in searching for the love that eluded her. Perhaps it was because her mother didn’t seem to definitively decide whether or not she wanted her child, making visits to Precious’ adoptive home every so often. The book also focuses on her experiences as a coloured girl in a largely white community.

During a talk at StoryMoja Hay Festival, Precious spoke of a lack of self-awareness of her African heritage. “When my mother brought my relatives to see me, I was afraid of them and always hid behind the seats. I remember one day my stepfather came to visit, and I started screaming because I was afraid to get into his car. The neighbours called the police and said, ‘There’s a black man here.’ And the police came right over. He was shouting to me as they took him away, ‘But you are African!’”

The reader sees Precious stumble along the way into the arms of men who seem fascinated by parts of her body that even she doesn’t understand. She grows in silence. But this is not your run-of-the mill tale of triumph over adversity. It’s larger than that. Written in a simplistic and elegant style, this is the story of a girl who spent her life wondering whether the name “Precious” was given to her in irony.

Nigerian author, Lola Shoneyin is an accomplished poet, novelist who just recently retired from a teaching position at a secondary school in Abuja. Her debut novel, “The Secret Lives of Baba Segi's Wives” was longlisted for the 2011 Orange Prize and won both the 2011 PEN Oakland Josephine Miles Literary Award and two Association of Nigerian Authors Awards. Lola was among the writers, poets and great thinkers expected at the just concluded StoryMoja Hay Festival.

Why is it important for you to share your daydreams and ideas with the rest of the world?

Culturally, Africans are very secretive. Family secrets must remain hidden, even when it's beyond everyone's control. Sickness, mental health, misfortune must be kept a secret because of the stigma attached. In the same way, we also don't talk about our mistakes. We don't own up and take responsibility for them so sometimes it seems like we're caught in a cycle of self-loathing and self-pity. I ask myself why I write the poems I write sometimes. Then I realise that I'm writing them for my many children, biological and informally- adopted. I write about the things they ought to understand, in first person so they're believable. I want them to know all my truths.

Did you have an “aha moment” when you knew that this (creative writing) was something that you were good at and could pursue seriously?

Not really. I tend to do things because I feel I must, rather than doing them because I'm good at them. I was lucky to have gone to schools where writing was greatly encouraged. I've always written, although I didn't think I'd necessarily become a writer. It was always been a way of relieving tension for me.

You’ve found success with both poetry as well as adult novels and children’s books, in which genre do you feel most expressive and why?

I'm at my most honest when I'm writing poetry because I can hide behind the poet persona. This is not to say that all my poetry is autobiographical. I take on other people's experiences and make them my own.

People say my humorous side is revealed in my fiction. Do your “other lives” (mother, wife, teacher) inform your creative spark? How so?

Yes, absolutely. Especially in my experience as a daughter! This has been the most complex aspect of my existence. Being a good writer has a lot to do with how good an observer you are: how well you listen, what you see and how you process what you see...

Is this your first trip to Nairobi?

No, I passed through in 1999 on my way to the Zimbabwe Book Fair. The guys at Immigration took one look at my Nigerian passport and decided I should be contained within the four walls of the airport. I wanted to breathe Kenya air and look at a good number of Kenyan faces, even if for a few hours only. I was saddened at the time because the airport was buzzing with British tourists. They had no problems at all.

What are your expectations for the festival?

I'm a teacher so I'm really looking forward to doing poetry workshops with children. I love the purity and innocence with which children approach poetry. I'm also looking forward to meeting other wonderful authors and poets. Being invited to the Hay Storymoja festival is a real luxury for me. Apart from raising my four children, I've always had a full-time job. I haven't had the chance to attend festivals or literary events to promote my work. However, I resigned a few months ago and I've had some time on my hands. I've decided to take a year out to focus on my creativity.

Will you conduct a workshop or give a talk at the Hay? If so, what should your fans (new and old) look forward to?

I will be giving several talks and doing a poetry workshop with children. My fans should look forward to openness and honesty. Let's not forget my incredible sense of humour...and my modesty!

Is the global literary culture on the decline or rise?

It depends where you are. In many African countries, literature has become a luxury, something that only people with disposable income can engage with passionately. This is a terrible shame.

Does the author still have a place in society?

If she/he wants to have a place, I see no reason why not. In terms of having a role? Absolutely. To be able to feed minds is a wonderful gift...very powerful. Having said this, the number of people who can access is shrinking. People can't afford books. Those who can afford books have very little time for reading. What words of encouragement would you give budding writers? Don't be afraid to experience life to the fullest. Taste new food, fall in love, touch different fabrics, study animals etc. All these things will enrich your writing. Also, identify what sort of writing you like. Mostly, I read what I like and write what I like.

Technology is changing the way we live—for better and for worse. It has infiltrated our everyday lives and permeated every aspect of our society, making us still more depended on our gadgets and high-speed Internet connection— sometimes to the extent that we feel lost and naked when the KPLC power cuts hit us.

In many ways, technology is making us better, faster and stronger. It is the extension of the human mind, allowing us to reach far beyond the boundaries of our bodies and own intelligence. We have more information; more communication; more art being produced—reaching ever-increasing numbers of people. This is potentially making us smarter, but navigating this sea of information is also becoming harder and harder. This has changed the game for traditional media outlets.

A big part of the challenge for media today is to harness and interpret the floods of information washing in on our shores, picking what’s most relevant for the reader. When the whole world is trying to tell you something at the same time, you need someone to help you find the significant voices, or everything becomes noise.

In the world of arts and culture this is more relevant than ever. Every writer has an outlet on his/her blog; musicians can circumvent record labels and reach their fans directly through mobile technology; artists can sell their paintings through online galleries. The audience of millions is only a mouse click away.

In this great democratization of the art industry, the middleman is taken out of the equation. It has leveled the playing field for struggling artists who have nothing more than their raw talent. But is this an overall improvement?

To some extent, increased access to instant publishing tools has spurred a movement towards mediocrity. The many mobile and Internet platforms have created an outlet for undiscovered genius, as well as ushered in the era of amateur hour.

This is why gatekeepers of “quality” are more relevant than ever. Traditional media needs to rise to this challenge, focusing on quality content that has the power to enhance the lives of its readers. We strive to be one of those gatekeepers, to the best of our abilities, and each month keep shining the spotlight on the best and brightest of what Nairobi has to offer.

And, while the world keeps moving faster, we treasure the moments where you can lose yourself in the printed pages. In this issue, we introduce you to the black-and-white photography of Zia Manji, take you all the way down to Camp Mulla’s “Funky Town” and share the magic of the just-concluded Slum Film Festival. You can also take a stroll down “Silicon Avenue”, and get an overview of who to look out for and where to find them. Discover for yourself if online accountability is a thing of the future or simply a mirage.

Lastly, we’re excited that the StoryMoja Hay Festival is back in town, especially because the “UP Lounge” will host writers’ workshops and discussions with Ross van Horn on harnessing creative energy, as well as a party with our in-house Deejay Bo. We hope to see you there.

The repetitive sound of conveyer belts and the hissing of insecticides linger long in the mind after viewing Nikolaus Geyrhalter’s Our Daily Bread (2005), both a savage and savagely beautiful documentary, focusing on European agriculture and industrial food farms. Geyrhalter’s kaleidoscopic style never passes judgment on his subjects. It juxtaposes the serenity of mass field harvesting at magic hour, with brutal hands-across-your-face moments. The methodical slaying of cattle in an abattoir via a centrifugal device, looks like something from 2001: A Space Odyssey (Kubrick, 1968), whilst the tagging, sorting and distribution of thousands of spritely chicks, ready for the battery farm, is unbearably cold and clinical—but bizarrely funny at the same time. Taken as a whole, this exceptional film is fervent about our dominant and sometimes indifferent position at the top of the food chain, making it leagues ahead of the atypical hunter/gatherer infodumps found on National Geographic.

On a different note, Al Gore presents us with An Inconvenient Truth (Guggenheim, 2006), making a pertinent argument on why global warming calls for change, asking us to take heed of a very real threat. Whatever your thoughts are on climate change, it is hard to deny Gore’s weighty arguments in verifying that this disastrous problem exists. His slide-show presentation intersperses powerful archive footage (some fetid home video from Hurricane Katrina, for example), interviews, flow charts, graphs and stills that make for a detailed polemic. Standout scenes include Gore talking about the horrifying possibility of “the Big Melt”, the collapse of major ice sheets across Greenland and Western Antarctica, which would raise sea levels to astronomical proportions. Detractors of the environmental movement should take note.

Even more disconcerting is Lucy Walker’s Countdown to Zero (2010), a hugely compelling argument on the threat of modern nuclear warfare, even as the Cold War has become a distant memory. Understandably, none of us wants to be on the brink again, but Walker’s film makes for a hair-prickling experience, particularly when revealing how an alarming number of warheads have gone unaccounted for. Countdown is chiefly propelled by interviews from key figures across the East and the West, including former General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union (CPSU), Mikhail Gorbachev, and former Britain PM, Tony Blair. Their accounts of just how close worldly powers and terrorist factions have had their fingers on the button, while simulatenously keeping all of us in the dark, is potent food for thought.

Returning to Hurricane Katrina, When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts (Lee, 2006) is about as epic and achingly profound as documentary filmmaking gets. Spike Lee’s dissection of this American tragedy hammers the Federal government for failing to respond and recognize those suffering during the aftermath of one of the U.S.’s most violent storms. It’s unimaginable that the richest, most powerful nation on the planet could react so poorly. As Lee’s film suggests, the refugees of New Orleans were not a priority, and ultimately Levees becomes a portrait of western humanity drowning in the floodwaters.